


Love Is More Than Chemicals

by enjolraspermittedit



Category: Ghost Quartet - Malloy
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossing Timelines, Drinking, F/F, Implied/Referenced Sex, Just all of that good Ghost Quartet circular story stuff yknow, Multiple Selves, Multiverse, Non-Explicit Sex, Proper warning(s) and rating to be added later, References to Depression, References to other Dave Malloy musicals, Reincarnation, Suicidal Thoughts, character death at some point probably bc it's ghost quartet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:33:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23949928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enjolraspermittedit/pseuds/enjolraspermittedit
Summary: The Soldier wants Rose to kill her. Rose wants The Soldier to go through several lifetimes with her. Rose ends up getting what she wants, and maybe The Soldier does as well. Together, they travel across several generations, planning to do what Rose was initially supposed to do alone.
Relationships: Rose Red/Soldier (Ghost Quartet)
Kudos: 5





	Love Is More Than Chemicals

_One pot of honey. One piece of stardust. One secret baptism. A photo of a ghost._ The bear’s words played as a constant loop in Rose’s mind. It was a task that could and would take several lifetimes to accomplish, but it would be worth it in the end. Rose shivered as she walked down the streets, hoping to find any of the four items that she needed.

Eventually, due to the freezing temperature outside, Rose found herself sitting inside a bar. She knew full well that alcohol would all but help her, but she didn’t care. She deserved to take a break before she even started. She had time.

Rose ordered a Jameson, not paying attention to the woman who was sitting right next to her. At least, she didn’t pay attention to her at first -- then she realized this woman was staring at her. Rose took one glance at her and knew. The bar was the right place after all.

“My name is Rose, Rose Red,” she said to the stranger who was not actually a stranger.

“I am a soldier,” came the response. The woman finally looked away from Rose and stared down at her drink.

Rose’s own whiskey arrived then, so she sipped on it slowly as she wondered how she could possibly get honey from this woman. It wasn’t against the bear’s rules to ask directly, was it? No, not that Rose recalled. Rose mulled it over for awhile, and before she knew it, her whiskey was gone. And the soldier was still sitting next to her.

Rose cleared her throat, deciding to just give it a shot. “Would you by chance have any honey?” she asked.

The soldier looked at Rose with no expression on her face. “Maybe. What do you need it for?”

Rose froze up. She couldn’t tell the truth obviously, and even if she did, it’s not like the soldier would believe her. “I’d like some,” she muttered, blushing a bit. Had she been sober, she would’ve come up with a better response -- honey wasn’t an outlandish request at all, of course, and it was the least suspicious thing to ask for out of everything on the bear’s list.

The soldier laughed. “Don’t be afraid to tell me the truth. Ghosts don’t bother me anymore.”

“Who ever said anything about ghosts?” Rose asked, not meeting the soldier’s eyes. “Anyway, even if it did have anything to do with ghosts, you wouldn’t believe me. I just want honey. What’s the crime in that?”

The soldier didn’t say anything for a moment, then eventually said, “Of course I wouldn’t believe you. I don’t believe in anything. But that doesn’t mean I won’t assist you. Just wait until I’m drunk, please. Steal the honey, then shoot me.”

Rose froze up in shock. She’d never mentioned killing the soldier, never even considered it in her head. She didn’t need to, so why would she? She just intended to rob and lie, not to kill. Was she that vengeful? Maybe in the back of her mind she was aware of the fact that she’d have to at some point, but it hadn’t been her intention with the soldier.

“Would you like to dance?” Rose asked, completely changing the subject. She offered her hand to the soldier. She needed to lighten the atmosphere, she needed to dance with this beautiful mysterious woman.

The soldier didn’t give an answer, but she did take Rose’s hand and lead her to the dance floor. Rose didn’t realize until then that the bar’s music was live -- not only that, but there were only two people playing instruments -- a cellist and a pianist. 

“Do you believe in love?” Rose blurted out once the song was finished.

“I don’t believe in anything,” the soldier said again.

“I do. I believe in the standard model of love, in which the two lovers are bonded into something greater than themselves,” Rose said.

The soldier was silent for a moment, and then she said, “How about you come back to my place? Take the honey from me when I’m asleep, then take my body out back into the alley and shoot me. Throw my body into the river, and watch it coldly as it floats down. I won’t come back to haunt you, I won’t have the time.”

Rose felt confused and frightened. She couldn’t do that. Why was the soldier insisting on it? “I can’t,” she said again.

“Oh, but you can and you will. You must, if you want your...little wish to come true,” the soldier said casually. “Trust me, you’ll get used to it. It’ll get easier and easier with each life cycle.”

“How do you know? How do you know about the…” Rose trailed off. About the what? She didn’t even know what she was trying to ask the soldier.

“This has all happened before,” the soldier replied simply, linking her arm with Rose’s. “Come on, let’s go.”

They paid for their drinks and left the bar, not talking on the way back to the soldier’s place. Rose couldn’t do this, she couldn’t kill this woman. She wouldn’t.

“Help me,” Rose whispered.

“Hmm?” the soldier asked, looking straight ahead.

“Help me,” Rose repeated. “You don’t have to die. If you give me the honey, then we can work together to, um…” To what? To undo a wrong? To undo a right? Rose wasn’t even sure what exactly she was doing, just that she thirsted for revenge and that she had been given a task.

“Go through several lifetimes with me,” Rose pleaded.

“I will,” Soldier said. They had gotten to her house then, so the soldier opened the door and went inside.

Rose stepped in after her, grinning. “You will? Thank you!” Convincing her had been much easier than she expected.

“Of course I will. I have to. After you shoot me tonight, and then after you die, we’ll meet again in our next life.”

Rose’s face fell. Of course, she should’ve known it was too good to be true. She should’ve known that the soldier wouldn’t have been convinced that easily.

The soldier put a hand on Rose’s shoulder, smiling at her sadly. “It’s okay, my dear. This is a circular story.”

Rose shook her head, confused. How did the soldier know more than she did? Had Rose hurt the soldier in a past life? Was the soldier able to predict future lives?

Rose stepped closer to the soldier, feeling shaky. “How do you know all of this?” she asked. “How do you know what I’m doing? How do you know what will happen? Why must I kill you, why can’t we go through several lifetimes as a team?”

“Don’t you remember?” the soldier asked. “The bear named his price, don’t you remember?” She removed her hand from Rose’s shoulder then, and instead gently stroked her cheek. “Don’t you remember?” she repeated. “We were angels once, don’t you remember?”

Rose didn’t remember, but she must have felt something, because she knew she had such a deep connection to this woman, even if she’d technically only met her tonight. Maybe it was drunken lust, maybe the soldier was right. Maybe this had all happened before.

“I don’t want to kill you,” Rose choked out, her voice breaking.

“I want you to kill me,” the soldier said. “Listen, Rose, I’m never this...soft with anyone. I’m never this open. I never act this way. I was planning for tonight to be my last one anyway. I just think I’d prefer to have you kill me, rather than myself.”

Rose’s heart broke at hearing the soldier’s confession. “No,” she said. “I’ll spend the whole night here begging you until you know that you are not going to die, whether it be by your hand or mine.”

“Then spend the whole night here,” the soldier said. “But don’t beg me to stay alive. Give me a reason to. Convince me to stay alive for this life and for the next few lives with you. Helping you with what the bear requested.”

 _She even knows about the bear,_ Rose realized with a start. She didn’t know why she was even surprised at this point. 

“Make me believe in love,” the soldier said. “If I can’t believe in ghosts, I want to believe in love.”

It was the easiest task that Rose had heard in awhile. Without a moment’s hesitation, she moved forward to press a kiss to the soldier’s lips, feeling her heart leap in her throat. And despite the fact that the soldier was the one who requested it at first, she seemed to be a bit unsure of herself, because she stood there frozen for a few seconds. Maybe she hadn’t expected Rose to actually comply -- which was something that Rose could hardly blame her for.

Still, the soldier didn’t seem to have much of a problem with it, once she realized what was happening. Suppressing a grin, she kissed Rose back, feeling the electric pulses in her fingertips. It was all very...sweet, which wasn’t something that the soldier was used to. She wasn’t used to it at all, if she could be honest. She didn’t believe in love for a reason, even if she used to in a past life. 

She hadn’t expected Rose to take her request seriously.

Rose did believe in love, she always had across all of her lives, including the ones that hadn’t happened yet. She doubted that she could change the soldier’s belief system, but she would damn well try. Softly and without trauma.

Well, perhaps not softly. Rose supposed that she could have been a bit more gentle with the soldier as she bit down on her lip, pushing her back against the wall. She hadn’t meant to be so intense so suddenly, but she’d remembered at some point that the other option was the soldier dying. She had to make the soldier believe in love. And she must have done something right, because the response that she got back was the soldier grabbing her lower back and pulling her closer.

Rose had loved many women before, all of them being different, but one thing that she noticed about the soldier was that she felt familiar. Not from recent years, but from past years, or years that hadn’t happened yet, or maybe from years that were happening now but in a different dimension. Rose didn’t know what it was about the soldier that felt like home, but she did know that she wanted her. Rose slid her tongue into the soldier’s mouth, still a bit surprised that the soldier was accepting this all.

The soldier was surprised too -- surprised still that Rose had chosen to honor her request. She was lost, but she didn’t care at all. She’d forgotten that she’d planned to die after the bar, even forgotten that she’d asked Rose to do the job for her. That she’d asked Rose to do more than one thing. That, somehow, Rose hadn’t been scared away. Maybe Rose wasn’t scared. Maybe she didn’t believe in ghosts after all, or maybe she did, but that she wasn’t afraid of them either.

The soldier pulled away then, suddenly, too caught up in her own thoughts. She still wanted Rose, the problem was that she wished she didn’t. She didn’t deserve any of this. Rose should’ve honored her death wish, not her more lustful one.

“Um,” Rose said awkwardly, trying to figure out what she had done wrong.

The soldier waved her away. “I need a moment,” she said, walking across the room. “Not your fault. Do you want more whiskey?” She didn’t wait for Rose’s response, and grabbed a bottle of lagavulin from the cabinet. 

“Yes,” Rose answered. If anything, the whiskey would give her something to do with her hands and mouth, if the soldier didn’t want them to be occupied otherwise. The soldier poured a glass for each of them, then lead Rose to sit down on the couch.

“You know, this wasn’t how I planned tonight to go,” the soldier sighed, sitting down next to Rose.

“Me neither,” came Rose’s response. Unsure of what else to say, she took a large swig of the whiskey.

“You know,” the soldier said again, “I’m not supposed to be alive right now. Wasn’t my plan.”

“I do know,” Rose said.

“Ghosts don’t bother me. That’s why I believe in them. Love does bother me. That’s why I don’t believe in it.”

“I know,” Rose said. “I know. I know all of this.” Because this has all happened before. “But I don’t know your name.”

The soldier didn’t answer for a moment, as she was drinking. “Yes, you do. I am a soldier.”

“Just Soldier, then.” It was enough of an answer for Rose. She set her whiskey down on a table next to the couch. “Well then, soldier. Look me in the eyes.”

The soldier did so, but barely. She gazed into Rose’s eyes for a few seconds, then returned to her drink. Temporarily. Rose was difficult to resist. So Soldier looked up again, to Rose, her eyes looking back at her.

“Sit down on my lap,” Rose said.

Soldier shook her head at first, but then she set her whiskey down next to Rose’s and climbed into her lap. God, she was drunk. What was she doing?

Trembling, Rose took Soldier’s hand, raising it up to her mouth. “Let me suck your thumb,” she murmured. “Could you believe in love?”

The soldier didn’t give an answer this time. She didn’t do anything as Rose kissed her thumb. She didn’t say anything as Rose sucked her thumb. She didn’t protest, never even wanted to protest. But she didn’t want to believe in love, either. Or she did, but she couldn’t. It was too much for her intoxicated brain to process. So she didn’t speak. She didn’t say a word. She was counting on Rose to speak again, and she did.

“Have I convinced you?”

“Convinced me of what?”

“Love,” Rose said, clearly.

“Not yet,” the soldier said, because she didn’t know the answer.

“How can I? I am not a hero. I can’t- I’m not special, I’m the same as anyone else. I can’t make you believe if…” _If what?_ What if there was no if, what if Rose couldn’t make her believe, period?

The soldier lifted her head and smiled. “Do you have time for someone as used up as me? I certainly don’t.”

“I certainly do,” Rose said.

“So prove it. I won’t stop you this time, I promise,” the soldier said, and it was more of a promise to herself than to Rose.

Rose was messier this time as she kissed the soldier, probably due to the alcohol, but not exclusively due to the alcohol. The two of them stood up at some point, and Rose stumbled, trying to do this half-tango dance with the soldier, despite not having any footing.

The soldier broke away again, but this time to laugh. “Maybe it’d be easier if weren’t on our feet at all.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Rose said. Maybe she was going to add something else, but then the Soldier started to lead her out of the room and any additional statement that Rose had planned to make was fading, fading as fast as a train light.

Rose didn’t know where she was going, so she clung to the soldier’s hand, until they were in what was presumably the soldier’s room. Rose was starting to regret all of the alcohol that she had consumed, worried now that in the morning she’d forget the soldier. Worried, worried, until the soldier was guiding Rose to her bed and Rose realized that she couldn’t worry about anything right now.

There were reasons that the soldier didn’t believe in anything. No one is born cynical. She was being reckless by letting Rose do this, because she knew that it was rare for anyone to treat her right. That’s why she was shocked that Rose was acting kind and honoring her. She wasn’t shocked that Rose was doing something for her, but more so that Rose was doing something good for her.

Rose _did_ regret the drinks now, for she wished that she was steadier, and she knew that she wouldn’t be as good as usual. Maybe the soldier would give her another chance later. Maybe they could lay together day _and_ night.

But the fact was that the soldier was just as intoxicated, if not more, so if she was bothered by Rose’s state she didn’t show it. The soldier always felt empty, but perhaps a bit less so as Rose kissed her neck. It was dark in the room, but not so dark that the soldier couldn’t see Rose. There were enough little lights, little moons, to create a stale pale glow that illuminated Rose. And the soldier liked looking at Rose through the moonlight. She’d never be this happy again -- her and Rose and no one else.

 _I want to believe in love,_ the soldier told herself, as her and Rose discarded each other of their clothes, throwing them in heaps on the floor.

 _I want to trust in love,_ the soldier told herself, as her and Rose discovered each other’s bodies, as she was actually treated right for the first time in this timeline.

 _I want to be in love,_ the soldier told herself, as her and Rose made each other see stars and fire in the darkness. And her and Rose were stars themselves, lost in time. One in love and the other quite not there yet. 

The soldier probably said something to Rose as she drifted off to sleep, but she couldn’t recall what it was, and Rose couldn’t either. Rose was drained. Too drained to get confused and frightened over the fact that the soldier had actually let her stay. Even as Rose closed her eyes, she saw the soldier's eyes looking back at her, as she dangled on the melting edge of sleep. Infinity was hers, infinity was the Soldier's.

When Rose opened her eyes again, she didn’t remember it clearly -- her memory was vague, but the soldier was still next to her in the beginning sunlight. So it wasn’t a dream, or a peek into a different life. Rose told herself that she wasn’t going to back to sleep. She moved closer to the soldier, still feeling the star and god inside of her. She still wasn’t sure if it’d brought out darkness or light but it didn’t matter because it was all the same. Nothing matters, everything matters, still all the same.

But it _did_ matter. Because the soldier had survived. Rose hadn’t killed her, even though that had been the initial request. But there was something else too, right? Something else that Rose had meant to do. What was it? A photo? No, not yet. Not yet, that had already happened.

_Honey._

Rose climbed out of bed, being careful not to disturb the soldier. She noticed the soldier’s jacket, and reached into one of the pockets to take the honey. She didn’t know what to do with it, though -- just take it and run off? No, that didn’t feel right.

The soldier must’ve awakened at some point as Rose argued with herself, because the next thing that Rose heard was, “You might as well just do it. That’s the whole reason you came here anyway.”

Rose jumped, looking up at the soldier. She frowned, setting the honey on the floor and climbing back on the bed. 

“Seriously. Go ahead. Doesn’t bother me. Honey’s yours now.”

Acting as if nothing had happened, Rose didn’t respond. “Do you believe in love?” she asked again.

“I wish,” came the soldier’s response, but it was already a more optimistic answer than the one that Rose had gotten less than twelve hours ago.

“Do you still want to help me? I’ll help you believe in love, and you’ll help me with…”

“So you still want to kill me after all, huh?” the soldier asked.

“No.”

“Yes, you do. You just said so. We know how this is gonna end.” The soldier didn’t seem at all bothered by it though. “Wish I didn’t know, though. Wish I couldn’t see it."

“See what?” Rose asked.

“It. The dreadful, terrible, it.” The soldier sat up then, avoiding looking at Rose. “Anyway, yes, we can help each other, as long as you realize we’ll be hurting each other too,” she said, getting out of the bed. “We’ll be killing each other, but we’ll be bringing each other back to life as well.” Still not looking at Rose, the soldier got dressed, slowly.

“I know,” Rose said.

“So you remember now?” the soldier asked.

“No, but I’m getting there.”

“Really? I wouldn’t expect you to. Most of it hasn’t happened yet,” the soldier said.

“I know. But I remember. I mean, I’m going to remember. I mean, I think I already have.”

The soldier left the room then. She did not take the honey, so Rose figured that the decision had been made. She stared at the honey the whole time she dressed, and eventually grabbed it. She was calling it honey the whole time, but she had no way of knowing what it really was. Maybe it was acid, like it will be again in the past.

The soldier was in the kitchen making toast, something simple, but something so loved by Rose. Rose could also smell coffee, coming from the Bialetti.

“What’s your phone number?” Rose asked. “If we’re going to be going through several lifetimes together…”

“I don’t like phones,” the soldier said.

“I know. Me neither.”

“You never did, did you?” the soldier asked. Despite that, she hurried into another room, and returned carrying a phone. “Here, just put your number in,” she said, handing the device to Rose.

They ate in silence, both aware of the importance of sharing meals but not particularly wanting to talk.

“What are you going to do with the honey?” the soldier asked, breaking the silence.

“I don’t know. Take it back to my place, store it somewhere,” Rose said, thinking aloud.

“Store it in a vault underneath your bedroom,” the soldier suggested. “I’ll go with you.”

“Sure, then. Not yet, though. I have to finish my coffee first. It’s not good to drink coffee on the go.”

“I know.”

“You do?” Rose asked, unsure of why she was even letting the soldier surprise her anymore.

“Yes. You’ve mentioned that before.”

“When?”

“Few thousand years from now,” the soldier replied, after thinking for a moment.

 _Of course._ Rose drained her cup, then stood up. “Let’s go.” She took her cup to the sink, then started moving in the direction of the door. “Let’s take the subway, it’ll be quicker.”

They didn't talk on the walk to the subway station either, and in fact they didn’t even look at each other until they were both on the train platform. The soldier took out her phone and started to play a game, causing Rose to clear her throat. “I thought you didn’t like phones.”

“I don’t. I just like the games. No one can hurt me in them,” the soldier explained. She played for a few more minutes, then put the phone in her pocket. “Why did you suggest the subway?” she asked.

“What do you mean? I told you, it’s because it’s quicker.”

“No, I mean, doesn’t something bad happen to us on the subway?” the soldier asked.

“Nope. Not yet.”

Before they knew it, a train was in front of them, and they moved through the crowd in a daze.

“Did you see the driver?” the soldier asked, after they both sat down.

“No, why?”

“He was the pianist from last night. At the bar, I mean.”

“Was he?” Rose asked. “He doesn’t look like a subway driver or a pianist. He looked more like an...astronomer or something.”

“I know, that’s what I said.”

They got off the train at Rose’s stop, again pushing past the crowds.

“You see that guy?” Rose asked, pointing to a man on the platform. “He’s there every day, screaming about the apocalypse.”

“I recognize him,” the soldier said, without elaborating. She made a dash for the stairs then, and Rose hurried after her.

“How do you know him?” Rose asked. “Because I was going to tell you that he was also the cellist from the bar.”

“No,” said the soldier. “That’s not all he is.”

“Yeah, he’s the guy who yells about the day of revelation,” Rose laughed, her voice light. “Don’t judge him for it though. He might not be a great man, but it’s okay, none of are.”

“No, I know him from somewhere else,” the soldier went on.

“Where?”

“From when I used to tell stories.”

They stepped out of the subway station on to the busy streets, and Rose took the lead. “What kind of stories did you tell?” she asked.

“You mean, what kind of stories _will_ I tell,” the soldier corrected her. “I haven’t started yet. But I’m going to tell lots of them, thousands.”

“I bet you’ll be able to go on forever, once you start telling them,” Rose says.

“No. Not forever.”

They got to Rose’s building then, and again fell into silence as they took the elevator up to her apartment.

“Don’t forget about where I told you to store the honey. The vaults, they’re a good place for storage.”

“I know,” Rose said. “But I don’t have them this time around. I’ll just keep it in my kitchen.” And that’s what she did - once they were inside Rose's apartment, Rose immediately set the honey on her table.

“Hey, where are you from, by the way?” the soldier asked. “I’ve been in New York my whole life.”

“Portland,” Rose told her.

“So you’re not from Persian land yet?”

“No, that was long ago,” Rose said.

“I see,” the soldier said, even though she really didn’t. She started to look at her surroundings, startling a bit when she noticed a fiddle on the wall.

“Hey, I’m going to have one just like that later on. Where did you get it?”

“If only I knew,” Rose said. “It’s been there since I moved in. The place was already furnished when I started to rent it out, and it came with a fiddle.”

“It’s as beautiful as I remember it,” the soldier said. “And so are you. Play a song for me on the fiddle?”

Rose grabbed the instrument from the wall. “Sure. What song do you want to hear?”

“The one about the two sisters. Have you learned that one yet?”

“Learned it, no. Remembered it, yes,” Rose answered, and she started to play.

By the time the song was finished, there was a storm outside, a contrast to how sunny it had been when they’d left the Soldier’s house. But it was okay -- wind and rain weren’t a problem yet.

“You might as well stay, until the storm clears up,” Rose offered.

“I would’ve wanted to stay anyway,” the soldier said.

“I hope it clears up, though. Maybe if the storm is gone by nighttime I can go outside and get some stardust.”

“Don’t you have it already, though?” the soldier asked. “I thought that I gave it to you.”

“No, not yet.” Rose hung the fiddle back up, and exchanged it for a notebook that was on the floor. “Speaking of stardust though, I keep all of my astronomy related notes in here,” she said. “Do you want to hear them? Or do you know them already?”

“No, I’ve never heard them.” If the soldier was more certain about love she probably would’ve added, _and even if I had already heard them I’d still want to hear you read them,_ but she wasn’t there yet, so she listened to Rose instead. She listened to Rose talk about what was going on light years away, about the versions of themselves that had already turned to dust - but it didn’t matter, because they would always be motes of dust and children of dust and ashes. Even so, Soldier and Rose owed each other a lot, for centuries to come.

**Author's Note:**

> do people read GQ fic? yeah no i don't think so but here i am. lol i've had this in my google drive since OCTOBER........If it's bad and makes no sense, my excuse is that it's Ghost Quartet and GQ is meant to be confusing ;) Seriously though, if there's something you don't get, I probably do not get it either, that is the fun of Dave Malloy.  
> "now that i'm a ghost, I'm gay"
> 
> tumblr - rated-r-for-grantaire  
> twitter/tiktok - butchhades  
> instagram - thisbrightstar  
> youtube- Lumina Pontmercy/Sky T.
> 
> Stay safe!


End file.
